In Vino Veritaserum
by Mathilda Dahl
Summary: Snape, lies and veritaserum. An angsty romance, full of lies and manipulation. No mr nice guy. Well, most of the time.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer- All characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm not making any money from this, so please don't sue me.

**Warning**- Although there is nothing violent or sexually graphic here so far, I can't promise that there won't be later, so you have been warned. Also it has to do with the rape (mentioned, not described) of a sixteen year old girl. While I acknowledge that in the USA she would be considered a minor in may states, please understand that this is not the case with the rest of the world, and in the UK the age of consent is sixteen. Since Harry Potter is set in England, please do not be shocked at this. The general theme of this fic is a dark romance, with manipulation and lies. Snape is no misunderstood sweetie.

The story is set the summer after TOOTP.

In Vino Veritaserum.

The meeting seemed endless, they always did. Dumbledore bleating on about ways to keep The Boy Who Would Be Expelled out of trouble with the ministry - underage casting again.What was wrong with the imbecile? All he had do do was wait a few weeks then he could legally roast that fat cousin and uncle of his like suckling pigs, and no one would bat an eyelid. Well, at least not the department that dealt with underage magic.

Snape sighed, and drank some more of the dark wine in front of him. At least this time it wasn't tea this time , alcohol made the order meetings more tolerable, it was even his favourite vintage. The fat Mrs Weasley looked disapprovingly at him from the far end of the table. Well it was his third goblet, but he needed it to stand the sight of her less than attractive face.

"Severus?"

"Hmm?" Damn, what had Dumbledore been wittering on about?

"I think it's about time the younger members of the order left, the next matter for discussion is rather ... adult. "Albus had a serious expression on his face, he'd better pay attention from now on.

There was the usual round of complaints fom the children, the little idiots had no idea what really went on. The things he had seen, and done, in the service of the dark lord, and then had to describe in bloody detail for posterity, and possible future prosecution. His stomach began to turn, and the wine began to taste sour. He had joined the death eaters with visions of some great purpose, to preserve the wizarding kind, but then he'd seen the gruesome truth of it all. The cruciatus spell at the slightest mistake, the near slavery he had to endure, the humiliations. Then there was the blood, so many innocents begging for their lives, and too much pleasure at the suffering. At least if he made a mistake serving Dumbledore, the worst he could expect was grandfatherly disappointment. Snape had no illusions about himself, he was not a nice person. He was cruel, charmless and foul-tempered. The image of his father. Seems that that the seed really doesn't fall far from the tree.

"Now really Severus, is that really how you see yourself?" Minerva was looking straight at him.

He froze, suddenly realising that he had been speaking. The only people remaining were Albus, Molly, Minerva and the aurors of the group. All eyes were on him, the mood in the room was suddenly grim. What exactly had he said? How much had he drank?

Molly returned, and cast a charm to keep the children from eavesdropping, then took her place at the end of the table, face hard as stone. The whole thing was starting to remind him of his questioning at the wizardgamot, but less friendly.

"Please Severus, continue." Dumbledore sat back in his high-backed chair, the twinkle gone fom his eyes.

"I'm sorry headmaster, I must have drunk more than I thought. Was I talking about my father? I hated him, you know, he used to beat my mother. All the time. If the house elf was too slow, if I cast a spell incorrectly, any excuse. I used to hide in the corner and put my hands over my ears. And the things he would say... he was never happier than when he was crushing the soul of someone who couldn't defend themself. It's your own fault, you made me do it, those were his favourites. I remember my mother bent over in pain, trying to hide the injuries, and she'd never say a word against him. I was eleven when she died. Everyone was told that she had fallen down the stairs, but I knew what had really happened. She was so gentle." His voice deserted him for a moment. "So a few years later when my father went out on one of his werewolf hunting trips I swapped his wand for a coreless piece of wood."

Dumbledore nodded slightly."Yes, I remember it well. They only found.. parts of him." That look in his eyes could almost be sympathy." I always wondered though, what with it happening during the easter break."

Snape smiled, a bitter twisted smile."Like father like son. I see him every time I look in the mirror, I hear him every time I speak, so I suppose he has his revenge, in some small way. I try to stop myself, but I hear his very words coming out of my mouth. I don't know how you can inflict me upon all those vulnerable, developing minds, Albus. You know what I am, you know the things I have done. Even the other death eaters are wary of me." He paused for breath, self-loathing making him look sick. "You all know I'm a death eater, but you have no idea.... there are moments when I long for when Voldemort to discover my betrayal. Perhaps then it will all be over, and when I'm dead don't mourn me, it will be a relief."

Several of the order looked away. A brief flash of sympathy showed in Molly's eyes, but then the coldness returned. Something was seriously wrong, he never talked like this, never let anyone know he truth, always hid the horror and hate that was Severus Snape. He looked down at the wine with sudden understanding.

Minerva picked up her full glass goblet, and ran a finger around the rim until it rang. "In vino veritaserum, professor."

This was appalling, the things he might say, had said. He had to get out of there, but Kingsley had pushed his chair back until it blocked the door, and several of the others had their wands out. He was trapped. They all knew, they had all heard.

The silence only lasted for a few seconds, then it was shattered.

"Damn you Snape, where's Hermione!" Molly shrieked.

A feeling of pure dread gripped him. The details, he had tried to protect them, and himself, and now..

"She's alive. I hid her at my fathers house after.." Even with the veritaserum and wine the words got stuck in his throat. His hands went to his mouth to try to silence himself, but the words started to spill out again. "I was summoned to the dark lord's presence, but arrived after the others had left for the Granger house. I apparated there to join them, but by the time I'd arrived her parents were already dead."

Everyone was silent. Tonks had apparated to the house to check on Hermione when Ron had been concerned that he hadn't had a reply to either phonecall or owl mail. Their best estimate suggested that Mr and Mrs Granger had been dead three days, at least. Tonks hadn't spoken much since. They hadn't been quick deaths. Hermione had now been missing for three weeks.

"The details, Severus." Dumbledore was softening slightly, at least he knew he hadn't slaughtered those two.

"The others were laughing, Mr Granger was ..."

"Not of their deaths," the old man interrupted, no one needed to hear those details, he supposed."About Hermione."

Snape dug his nails into his palms, anything but this. "It was all my fault, my master had seen something in my mind. I tried so hard to hide it, but he knew anyway." He was starting to shake."I tried to kill the ... emotion I was suffering with potions and discipline, but it kept coming back. I knew it was wrong, but I thought I had buried it deep enough that no one would ever know. She was so young and innocent, and a student, a brilliant mind." He shook his head in disgust. "My behaviour was always above reproach, I swear. I never would have, it would have been unthinkable. She never even noticed me looking. Although it seems Malfoy junior did, he said something to his father that started the dark lord looking to begin with."

"It was his idea of a gift. It's no secret that I have no skill with women, and I'd accepted that I would be the last of my house. A pureblood wife would have been out of the question anyway, they all found richer, better-looking husbands years ago, so I'd accepted celibacy. But my master thought it would be a shame to let the name of Snape die out, and when he found out my.. secret, he decided to be generous. He thought she'd be good breeding stock. Young, healthy, a genius. The raid on the Grangers was solely for the purpose of abducting Hermione, for me. A reward for loyal service." He began to laugh at the absurdity of it, then stopped abruptly. "Please, don't make me say this, there aren't words for what I did to her while I was failing to save her." Damned tears began to scald his face. "She cried so much, I just wanted to protect her."

"What did you do to her?" Molly was past shouting.

"When I got to the Granger house, her parents were dead and she was lying bound on the floor. They had made her watch while they'd dismembered them. Goyle always was better with knives than magic. Their blood was all over her. Nott was laughing, saying that it was all her fault and that they'd still be alive if she hadn't been born. That's when they told me about my reward. We used a port key to get her back to the mansion, and then I violated her in front of my master and every death eater there, and showed the appropriate gratitude. She didn't make a sound, and when I got her back to my father's house she stayed silent. She hasn't spoken a word in three weeks. I've asked her if she wanted me to bring her to the school or to the Burrow, but she just sits there and stares. The house elf has been attending to her when I'm absent, but I've spent every moment trying to help her. I've tried everything, a Heartsease potion, lesser memory charms. I even got a healer from St Mungoes to see her, but there's no one in her eyes. She'll swallow liquid if you put it in her mouth, I've been feeding her Sustaining potions to keep her alive." He stopped for a moment, suddenly defeated and hopeless. "I don't believe Hermione is in there anymore ."

Snape was disgusted to realise he was sobbing, choking as he tried to hold it in. He buried his face in his hands, humiliation overwhelming him at the loss of control in front of other people, and at what he had done. Please, just hold something back, don't let them strip him totally bare.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Minerva asked sadly.

"Shame." He took a deep breath, and here came what he had really been hiding. Damn them all, and himself most of all. "And I wanted to be with her, I wanted to make it all better. I wanted to be the man who saved her."

"But you weren't, were you." There was a sickened look on Molly's face. Well, he had earned it.

"No, I wasn't." He took a deep breath. "I was the monster who stripped her naked and raped her in front of a roomful of leering murderers."

There was a blessed silence, it seemed the worst of it was over. Snape looked down to see that he was shaking, and although his tears were still betraying him, the snivelling seemed to have stopped. What should he do now? Apologise? Beg forgiveness? Reason with them that he was acting in her best interests? Curiosity overcame self preservation for a second.

"How did you know?"

The atmosphere in the room seemed to relax a fraction. There were expressions of what could be pity on a few of their faces. Albus looked sadly at him.

"When was the last time you ate, Severus? Or drank something other than alcohol. When was the last time that you slept? You look like Sirius after Azkaban, and every time someone mentioned Miss Granger's name you seemed to freeze up. " The old wizard sighed. "I'm sorry that we had to put you through this, but we had to know, and we had to be sure. Every member of the order who attended tonight has agreed to absolute silence on anything you said if you proved to be innocent, and I am satisfied that that is the case.."

Snape began to laugh. "Innocent? Albus, your choice of word is worse than innappropriate, it's ludicrous. I've murdered my own father, raped one of my own students, and participated in more murders and tortures than I..." his voice broke. "Please do me the courtesy of never calling me innocent again."

There was a long silence in the room. Kingsley pulled his chair up to the table again, and the wands that had been in evidence were being put away. The only person still openly hostile was Molly Weasley, the others seemed mostly sad, or thoughtful. Snape slumped in his chair, it seemed to be more or less over. Although it could never really be over. They all knew. Everything.

He felt a bizarre mixture of nauseous, violated and relieved. The humiliation at such a complete loss of control would probably bubble to the surface again later, along with the rage. Then suddenly a tiny flare of hope.

"Albus, can you think of any way to help her, anything." He knew he was clutching at potion fumes, the healer had said that her mind had retreated so far away that she would probably never recover. But this was Dumbledore..."Please."

"I think you had better take Molly and myself to Miss Granger. Immediately."

He stood up, feeling like someone had cast a jelly legs curse on top of everything else. He lurched unsteadily towards the fireplace, his heart racing. Perhaps...no don't hope, he thought, it will only be the worse when it fails. Sick inside, and trembling, her grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot over the fireplace, threw it in, and went home.

Please feel free to review this, if I get enough reviews I'll get around to writing some more, from Hermione's POV.

For those who don't know any Latin, "in vino veritas" means "in wine, truth." Specifically it means that drunks tend to blurt out thier true feelings. I thought it had a nice sound to it.


	2. Where am I?

"Hermione? Can you hear me, Hermione?"

Where was she? She didn't recognise the room. All dark wood and thick curtains, with a massive stone fireplace. But the voice was familiar, and it wouldn't be quiet.

"Hermione! Look at me!"

"What?" She turned to the sound of the voice. It was Mrs Weasley, her her face breaking into a huge smile. Behind her Dumbledore sat in an ancient leather armchair, his eyes closed as if he were taking a brief nap, and behind him a thin wreck of a man that it took her a moment to recognise, leaning on the chair for support. Professor Snape, it had to be, but he looked terrible. Was he ill?

"Mrs Weasley, where am I?"

Mrs Weasley suddenly looked sad, then forced a smile. "You're at Professor Snape's house. How do you feel, dear?"

Hermione was about to say "fine", but then realised that this wasn't as easy a question as it should be. She felt, well, oddly empty. And she had no idea of how she had come to be at Professor Snape's house, or how she had come to be wearing an antique white nightgown that was _not_ hers. And she couldn't remember anything after lunch that afternoon.

"How did I get here? What happened?" Hermione was confused. "Did something happen?"

Molly burst into tears. "Oh Hermione. Yes dear, something bad happened, and you were very sick for weeks. We didn't think that you would wake up again." Then she started to sob so heavily that she couldn't speak. She looked worn down, like she had been crying a lot recently.

"Where are my parents?" She spoke very slowly, afraid of the answer. Something was terribly wrong. She began to shake.

Molly just shook her head, unable to speak.

"Mrs Weasley, where are my parents?" She could only manage a whisper. From the look on the older woman's face, and by the way she couldn't meet her eye, it could only be the worst. "Professor Snape, what happened to my parents?" Hermione looked up at him. He looked worse than Mrs Weasley, like he hadn't slept or eaten for weeks, barely recognisable.

He took a deep breath. "I am sorry Miss Granger, but they are both dead." He moved away from the headmaster's armchair, and walked unsteadily towards her. "It was nearly four weeks ago. There was a death eater attack on your home, and I regret you were the only survivor. You have been in a near catatonic state ever since."

"Oh." It couldn't be real. They'd had chicken salad, her mother had made her wash the plates, and her father was reading the newspaper. Death eaters in the kitchen? It seemed ludicrous. Her face twisted into a frown. Why couldn't she remember?

"I was there?" There was nothing, nothing but normal summer holiday boredom. "Why can't I remember?"

"After the attack, your mind was unable to cope with the horror, and retreated to a 'safe' place. You had not spoken or moved in three weeks, and it seemed unlikely that you ever would. The headmaster believed that the only way to bring you back was to completely remove the events that had traumatised you from your memory. Miss Granger?"

"I have to go home, I, I..." She stood up, swaying. "I have to, oh." And she fell forwards, legs buckling under her. Why couldn't she stand? Was she injured?

Professor Snape made as if to help her back into the chair, but then Mrs Weasley sprang forward, at once lifting Hermione up and preventing him getting anywhere near her.

"_I'll _do it," she snapped, glaring at him. "Now there, Hermione dear. You've not moved in weeks, and you're very weak. Best you just sit there for a while." She glanced at Snape. "You can go and get her something to eat."

"Oh, but I''m not hung.." But then she realised that, bizarrely, she was. "Yes, thank you." How could she be thinking of food? Her parents were dead. Shouldn't she be crying, or doing something? She hadn't finished drying the dishes, they had to be put away or Mum would freak. The kitchen would be a real mess. Did they die in the kitchen?

"How did they die?"

Mrs Weasley winced. "I think you've had enough bad news for now, dear. I'll explain everything properly tomorrow, when you've had a bit of a rest."

"Are Harry and Ron alright? Do my Grandparents know?"

"Harry and Ron are fine, and yes, your grandparents know. Now Hermione, I know this must be very difficult, but it's better if you try not to think about it right now, you have to get a bit stronger before we can give you all the details, or it might be too much for you. And it was so difficult to bring you back the first time, I don't know if Dumbledore would be able to do it again."

There was a faint snore from the armchair opposite. "How did you get rid of my memories? An Obliviate spell?"

Professor Snape returned with a plate of tiny sandwiches and a glass of pumpkin juice. He put them on the small table beside her armchair. "Nothing so simple, Miss Granger. An obliviate spell strong enough erase memories as traumatic as yours would have caused severe side effects, such as massive memory loss in other areas, and permanent brain damage. We did try lesser strength spells to relieve the stress to your psyche, but they were not strong enough to have en effect. Eventually the headmaster had to use his skill in legillemancy to enter your mind and locate the memories, then he very carefully removed them and placed them in a pensieve. It was a time consuming process, and exhausting for him. You'll forgive him his little 'rest'." A ghost of a smile flickered over his exhausted face. "I see you are recovered enough to think with some clarity. Then you will understand while you need to rest for a while before you try to return to your home, or try to deal with," he paused, "what happened to you. It would probably be for the best if you remain here while you recover. It's quiet and private, and you'll be safe here."

Mrs Weasley snorted. "I don't think so. As soon as she can stand I'm taking her back to The Burrow with me. I don't think that she should be left here to your tender care."

He sighed. "She has to stay here, at least for a few days. I have to explain to Him why she is going to be back at school, and she needs time to deal with her loss before all her little friends try to 'help' her. It's going to be very difficult, and Miss Granger is in a fragile state. The last thing she needs is a houseful of people tiptoeing around her, watching every word. And your family is hardly renowned for it's tact."

"There is no way that I am leaving her alone with you!"

"You don't have to. I was about to suggest that I have Snippy make up a bed for you in the guest room. Although this is the best place for her, I know that my presence is not comforting, and I am ill equipped to care for a semi-invalid young lady. I shall be as unobtrusive as possible."

"Are you sure that you'll be able to stand the sight of my 'less than attractive face?'"

The professor hissed, then stood straighter. "I am sure I will be able to tolerate it for a few days, Mrs Weasley." There was a flash of anger in his eyes, then his mouth set into a thin, hard line. "You should contact your unfortunate husband, to let him know you are staying."

Normally Mrs Weasley would have exploded at such a comment, but she just sucked in a deep breath and clenched her fists. Instead, she looked at Hermione, then nodded reluctantly. "Perhaps the Burrow wouldn't be the best place." She stood up, and straightened her clothes."I shall have to floo back home to fetch a few things, if I'm staying. Hermione dear, I shall only be gone a few minutes. Will you be alright?"

Oh, so you've noticed that I'm still here. "Yes, I'll be fine." She smiled reassuringly at her, and began to nibble at one of the sandwiches. Hm, chicken salad.

Hermione dropped the sandwich and buried her face in her hands, sobbing like a lost child. They couldn't be dead, there must have been a mistake. They weren't a part of all this.

Snape backed away, and Molly reached out to hold her. Dumbledore snored peacefully through it all. When the worst of it was over, Hermione found herself curled up in Mrs Weasleys lap, her face being dried with an embroidered hanky.

"There there dear, you just let it all out." Molly gave her a squeeze, and stroked her hair.

Profeesor Snape reappeared, with a couple of glasses. He put one one the table, and handed the other to her. "You should drink a little of this, it will help, a little."

Hermione took it and sniffed. "What is it? A potion?"

He shook his head. "No Miss Granger, just brandy. I hear that it can be helpful if you have received bad news."

Well it probably couldn't do any harm. She began to sip it, letting it burn down her throat. A minute or so later warmth radiated from her stomach, and she began to relax.

Snape handed the other glass to Mrs Weasley, who raised an eyebrow, but then drank it in one gulp. She put the glass down, then smiled gently at her. "I think I'll get you settled in bed before I pop home."

Supported between the two of them, Hermione wobbled her way up a short flight of stairs and into a cool bedroom, lit by a single candle. Molly helped her into the bed, and tucked the sheet in. Hermione felt strangely tired, hadn't she been asleep all this time? Maybe catatonia wasn't restful. She yawned. Maybe it was the brandy.

"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep,dear?" Molly asked.

"No thank you. I think I'd like to be alone for a while." Hermione found that she was feeling tearful again, and bit her lip.

"Well, I won't be gone long. If you need anything later, just call out for me."

"Mrs Weasley will be in the room next door." Snape told her. "In the meantime I shall have the house elf stay within earshot. Call for Snippy if you want anything. She'll be happy to help, she's been attending to you these past weeks and will to deilighted to see you are recovering. Goodnight, Miss Granger." He inclined his head, then left. He stopped just outside the door. "For heavens sake Mrs Weasley, let her alone, she needs to sleep." And he walked off.

Molly patted the bed covers. "I'll be going then, love." She looked like she might say something else, but then she just smiled a bit, and left her in peace.

As soon as Mrs Weasley had gone, Hermione started crying into the pillow. After a while the sobs slowly became quieter, until they finally faded into an disturbed sleep. Later that night, she woke briefly, thinking she could hear shouting. But she soon drifted away again.


	3. What to do

"She does NOT need to know!"

Snape slumped back into the battered leather of the chair. "She does not need to know that. Do you think it will do anything for her peace of mind if she finds out her potions master has been ogling her in the classroom? She has enough to deal with."

"You mean that _you_ have. I can't believe you, this whole thing is your fault and now you're trying to worm your way out of the blame!" Molly shouted at him. "Ashamed are you? Well you bloody well should be."

"I thought that the veritaserum had already established that." Snape sighed, he just didn't have the strength for vitriol right now. "And it isn't a matter of my feelings, or convenience. I am solely concerned for Miss Granger."

"Really. How convenient." The harpy was as cold as ice now.

"Mrs Weasley, Hermione not only has to endure discovering exactly how her parents were butchered, but that she was raped in front of a roomful of death eaters. I would say that that is enough for anyone to deal with. But all consideration to her feelings aside, I will probably have to spend a lot of time with her, and her knowing about my," he hesitated to use the word,"_feelings_ for her would make her extremely uncomfortable. She will be uneasy enough knowing that it was me who raped her. It would make it difficult to maintain my cover story, and then He could have us both killed."

"Severus may have a point, Molly." Dumbledore had finally woken up after several minutes of 'heated debate'. Not that Snape begrudged him a single snore. He had restored Hermione, he'd give him his wand hand if he asked for it. Not that he'd ever say so.

"He doesn't want her to know that it was his fault." She accused, crossing her arms. He could swear that she was tapping an imaginary rolling pin against herself.

"On the contrary Mrs Weasley, I intend to tell her absolutely everything, except that one thing. She will know that she was targeted because the dark lord thought she'd be a fine breeding mare for the next generation of Snape, and that I was because I admired her mind. Anything else would only disturb her. It certainly disturbs me. You have some image of me as a deviant old man pursuing a pert schoolgirl, and it isn't true. If it was not for my master's 'generosity' no one would have ever known, least of all Miss Granger. I may be a monster, but I am not depraved." He was angry now. He took another sip at the brandy in his hand, then finished it.

"I don't believe that is going to help." Dumbledore eyed the now empty glass. "Perhaps you should try some food, and then some sleep. Both of you. It has been a trying week for all of us, and things should seem clearer in the morning. Although I do agree with Severus that there's nothing to gain from telling Miss Granger about..him. Now if you'll both excuse me, I believe there is a warm bed waiting for me." He stood up, evidently feeling his age. "Severus, is the pensieve locked away?"

He nodded. The last thing any of them wanted was Hermione finding it, and being shocked into a trance again.

"Good. Then I'll bid you both a long overdue goodnight."

Molly helped him out of his armchair, and waved as he flooed back to Hogwarts. Then she turned back to Snape. "So what exactly are you going to tell Him? Thank you very much, but I don't fancy her anymore?"

She obviously wasn't going to give it a rest. Snape headed back to the brandy decanter. "One does not refuse a gift from the dark lord unless one is tired of life. I will stay as close the the truth as possible, that Goyle's murder of her parents sent into into such a shocked state that her mind couldn't cope, so I had to erase all her relevant memories and say that I found her after the attack. I intend to let him believe that I shall make her Mrs Snape as soon as Dumbledore and Potter are dead. He knows I am a stickler for traditional values, so this won't overly surprise him."

She snorted derisively, that and the fat making her seem rather porcine. "There's no way any sane person would believe that you could get a pretty young girl to marry you."

"Quite possibly, although you seem to be forgetting that I am a master of potions." He drank down half a glass of brandy. Let her work that out for herself.

"Are you saying that you'd feed Hermione potions to..."

"Don't be ridiculous! I would simply let the dark lord think I was. It may take some acting on the part of Miss Granger when we are in public, but I believe that we can successfully deceive Him, and my fellow death eaters." And if Potter dies, they'll let her live.

"And she'll have to spend all her time fawning over you. I bet you'll just hate that," Molly looked disgusted.

"I'm sure I'll survive."

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him, then a glass shattered right next to his head. He smiled to himself. "Really, Mrs Weasley, you should learn to control your temper." He downed the rest of the brandy. "Perhaps we should call it a night, and resume this in the morning."

He glanced back at her as he staggered out of the room. She was nearly apoplectic with rage, he half expected her to charge at him, wand out and ready to hex. But she just kicked his armchair, then sat down in it, fuming.

Snape chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs. He must be drunk again. Oh well, he had plenty of hangover cures in the house. He paused outside the room Hermione was sleeping in, tempted to watch her, to reassure himself that her cure was real. Better not to risk disturbing her.

His own chamber was a few doors away. He crashed in, and fell onto the bed, fully dressed. He should probably take off his boots...

And then there was bright light, piercing through his closed eyes and into his brain. He shielded his eyes with his hands, and sat up. It was morning already, he had actually slept the whole night through, wonders would never cease. A moment of panic gripped him, Hermione. Then he relaxed as he remembered that the Weasley woman had been there all night to watch over her. And Snippy, of course.

And bless the little creature, there was a tiny bottle of vomit-green hangover cure on the bedside table. Snape winced at the brightness of the morning light, and quickly drank the potion. A few seconds later and he was much recovered, and peering at his reflection in the dresser mirror.

"You look terrible!" It cheerfully told him. "Would it kill you to shave, or have a bath?"

He gritted his teeth. The only reason he didn't smash the damned thing was that it used to be his mother's. Still, it may have a point. Today was the day that he had to break the news to the only person he cared about that he had raped her, the least he could do was not look completely repellent. He headed into the bathroom, and methodically shaved, bathed and washed his hair. Clean clothes, he needed... ah, bless the little house elf again. There on a hanger was one of his more modern black robe suits. He dressed carefully, then checked with the mirror again.

"At least you look alive this time."

He sighed, well, it was the best he could hope for. The suit hung limply on him. He should probably get some food. Dumbledore had been right about him not eating lately, but then, there hadn't seemed like there was a point to it before. So, time for breakfast.

He walked down to the dining room, to find it had been set for breakfast, and that surprisingly both Hermione and Mrs Weasley were already there. He sat at the far end of the table, to give her some space.

Snippy wandered in, arms full of a tea tray. She looked surprised to see him, but put down the tea cups without comment.

"Can I gets you anything, master?"

"My usual breakfast."

Snippy beamed, and scampered off to the kitchen. Snape risked a look at Hermione. She seemed pale, but otherwise well. It even looked like she'd eaten. Mrs Weasley had, of course, eaten well. He poured himself some tea.

"I am pleased to see you are well enough to join us, Miss Granger. Are you feeling stronger today?"

"A little. I find that I can't walk without help though." She spoke very quietly. But, she was speaking, and that was what mattered.

He nodded. "It is because of your immobility over the past weeks. You'll regain your strength as your muscles recover. You should take a little gentle exercise, like short walks on the garden to help that. Mrs Weasley will probably have to assist you the first few days, but by the time the new school term starts you should be physically recovered." If not emotionally.

Hermione just looked blank. He supposed she hadn't even thought of it. Well, she would have to return to a normal, or at least near normal life, and the sooner the better.

Snippy hurried in with his cooked breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage. She had to have used magic to prepare it that swiftly. Watery green eyes looked up at him hopefully, She must have been worried about him. He started eating, and the elf smiled happily, then started humming as she cleared away the empty dishes.

"Pro..professor, I am going to need some things from my home. Could someone go there to get them if I write out what I want?"

"Of course, I'll go as soon as you've written it out.."

"No!" She turned a little pink. "Some of the things are, er, girls' things. I'd be happier if a woman went."

Ah, probably underthings and such. "I understand." Well, Tonks couldn't be sent back into the house, that would be cruel, and Ginny was too young to see the blood-painted kitchen. "Molly, could you? I'm sure it wouldn't take long."

Mrs Weasley paused, probably thinking along the same lines as himself. "Of course. Hermione, dear, I'll just fetch a quill and parchment, then you can write it all down. And remember to say where things are, so I can find them."

She got up from the table to fetch the quill and parchment, and a few minutes later she was scratching down a list in her neat writing. Snape finished eating, and was watching her when he noticed Mrs Weasley was glaring at him again. Fair enough. He reached for the copy of the Prophet to distract himself, but as he unfolded it he noticed the huge headline, "STILL MISSING!" with a school photo of Hermione beneath it. He winced, there was a full description of her parents' deaths to go with it. He folded the paper, and caught Mrs Weasley's eye, then walked into the drawing room.

She followed a few moments later, and he wordlessly showed her the front page. She too, winced.

"I believe it would be better if Miss Granger found out the details sooner rather than later. It would be devastating if she found out from a stray headline, or overheard some careless conversation."

Molly sighed."You're probably right." She looked at him strangely. "You want to do it, don't you?"

"No. But I feel that it is my responsibility to do so. I was present, after all. And it was my fault." He waved his wand at the newspaper. "Incendio!" and it flamed briefly, leaving a fine haze of ash in the air. If only all problems could be solved as easily.

"I shall talk to her while you are gone, Molly. I know that you feel that you should be there to comfort her, but the things we Will be discussing will be intensely personal, and embarrassing for both Hermione and myself. We will need privacy. Try to time your return for about midday, she will need a little time to herself when we have finished."

She looked him dead in the eye, then nodded. "Alright." Then she stood a little straighter, and went back to get Hermione's list.

He was stunned, he had expected another argument, or barrage of insults, not acquiescence. Possibly she just didn't want to be there to hear the details, and he couldn't blame her. He wished he could be somewhere else, too.

He could hear them talking quietly in the other room. Any moment now Mrs Weasley would apparate away, and he would be left alone in this room with nothing but Hermione and the cold truth. And then she wouldn't just be grieving for her parents, she would be sick inside and full of hate for him. And he would have earned it.

Nothing to do now but sit down and wait for the morning from hell.


	4. If you believe that

Mrs Weasley settled Hermione into the same wing-backed armchair that she'd been in the night before, after dressing her in an old fashioned pink robe. She fussed about for a few minutes, then flooed back to the Burrow, leaving her with Professor Snape. There was a long, awkward silence. Hermione used the time to study her potions master. He did look as if he had been ill, although he looked a little less like the undead this morning. His head hung down, hair hiding his face. Not so greasy today. He looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Miss Granger," he paused, as if searching for words, "I think it is time that you found out the exact events of the night of your parents' death, and the circumstances that led to it, and your catatonic state. I would have preferred to let you recover for a bit longer before I had to subject you to this, but it is better that you it hear from me firsthand." He took a deep breath, like a diver preparing for a long drop.

"I was there, that night. I was with the order when the Dark lord summoned me., and I left as soon as I could. I apparated to the mansion that he is currently hiding in, and he greeted me with a smile. I immediately knew something was wrong."

Professor Snape froze for a few moments, then took another deep breath. "He almost cheerfully informed me that he had found a gift for me, something to reward me for years of service, something he knew that I would want. I..." He stumbled over the words, swallowed and started again." I am the last of the house of Snape, the last wizard to have that name. My only living relative is my aged grandmother. He decided to reward me..." He stopped again, unable to speak.

Hermione had never seen Professor Snape like this. "What with?" She asked, truly mystified.

He seemed to brace himself. "You."

She sat there in a stunned silence, baffled.

"Why? I mean, what for?"

"My master believed it would be criminal for me to allow the Snape line to die out. Several times when he had been looking into my mind he could see how impressed I was with your intelligence and ability. In view of the lack of suitable pureblood women, he thought that you would be good... breeding stock." He fell silent, lips pressing into a hard line, fists turning white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.

Hermione blinked, her mind refusing to accept what this had to mean. She couldn't think of anything to say. Her teacher looked at her, to check that she was still with him.

"I apparated to your parents' house, but I was too late. Goyle senior had already killed your parents. He used knives. They had made you watch." He paused to look at her, " Professor Dumbledore believes that was the cause of your withdrawl. When he was removing your memories, he said that what followed was very vague, for which I am profoundly grateful."

"There's more?" Knives.

He nodded, looking a little sick. "The other death eaters and I took you back to the mansion. There was quite a party. Then the dark lord suggested that I should 'unwrap' my gift."

He paused, as if to give her time to understand the implications of this. His face seemed to be turning even paler. Professor Snape glanced up at her for a moment, then he hung his head again, unable to meet her eye.

Hermione had to think for a second. What exactly did he mean? Oh.

"What did you do to me?" She whispered.

"I raped you, on the floor, in front of all of them."

There was a long silence. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a clock ticking. Finally he seemed able to speak again.

"Then I brought you here. For several weeks I tried on my own to revive you, but I failed. Eventually Albus confronted me, and I confessed. He was right, I should have told him immediately. It took him two days to clear your mind of the memories, and something called 'flashbacks', that haunted you in the weeks after. He said that your mind ceased to function normally after your parents died, you barely registered my presence. At any time."

Hermione just sat there. This couldn't be real. Him? That meant she wasn't a virgin anymore. Then a horrfying thought.

"I'm not pregnant, am I?"

"No!" he said hurriedly. Then as an explanation. "I didn't, well that is, I couldn't, not properly."

"I don't understand." And she didn't.

Snape actually went a faint pink colour. "I don't enjoy violating young girls, Miss Granger. I was unable to finish the act."

There was another awkward silence. Hermione could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up. Those death eaters, they'd all seen her naked, probably cheered Snape on as he... She looked at him. She just couldn't imagine him, on top of her. Her was a teacher. She took a few deep breaths. To be fair, he looked more distressed than she was, at least she couldn't remember. But those murderers had watched while he had... again, she couldn't quite get her mind around it.

"My parents died because of me." It was very clear now. It was her fault. "If I hadn't been born, they'd still be alive."

"Don't you EVER say that again, or even dare to think it. None of this was your doing. If you want to blame someone blame me, or Goyle, or Nott, or Him. But never yourself." Snape sounded very angry. "Do you understand me? Never blame yourself."

Hermione started crying again, silently. After a minute or two a hanky was pressed into her hand. Professor Snape retreated back to his chair, he probably didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable by being too close. She sat up straight and fought to control the tears. After a few minutes she was able to speak.

"So what do I do now? I mean, won't Voldemort wonder what I'm doing back at school? I am going back to school, aren't I?" Or would she have to stay here, with him? No, Mrs Weasley would never allow that. Would she have to go into hiding?

"Please, Miss Granger, don't ever say that name in my prescence. I have thought of a way for you to return to as near normal a life as possible. I shall tell the Dark Lord the truth, that you were so damaged by the actions of the other death eaters that you had become useless as a woman. I shall then claim that I erased your memories, and left you somewhere that you would be found by friends." His mouth twitched into a half smile. "It's much easier to deceive with the truth, so we will stick as closely to the actual events as far we can."

"Won't he be angry that I'm alive?"

He shook his head. "No, on the contrary. You were, after all, a gift from him. He would be angry if I killed you after all the trouble he went to. I shall let him believe that I am feeding you potions and seducing you in the old fashioned way, as a prelude to marriage when all the opposition to his rule is ended. There has never been a bastard in the Snape family, I shall claim that I have at least a few old fashioned values where my bloodline is concerned."

He must have seen her shock. "I do not actually intend to seduce or marry you, Miss Granger. Please try to remove the look of horror from your face."

"I'm sorry, professor, it's just, all a bit much."

"Yes, I suppose it must be. Sometimes I forget just how young you are." His vioce sounded less harsh. "I understand that this cannot be easy for you. The shock of your parents' death, and now ... this." He sighed. "We don't need to discuss this matter any further, just now. We can arrange the details of the deception as the new term begins. Perhaps now would be a good time to 'take a break'."

Hermione nodded blankly, and Snape stood up, ready to leave.

"Call for the house elf if you need anything. Under the cirumstances, I shall be keeping a healthy distance while you recover, although I will be in the house most of the time. Mrs Weasley will be the one to keep you company, and see to your needs.

I believe that in a couple of days, the order will release the news that you have been found, and you can then leave for the Burrow, and to see your grandparents. You don't have to concern yourself with the muggle police, all the mundane details have been smoothed over by Dumbledore and the ministry. " He paused as if uncertain. "I am sorry, Miss Granger."

He left her, sitting alone in the empty drawing room, dazed from all the information. She should be crying, should be sick, or angry, or anything, something. Instead she just sat there, staring at the wall. Birds chirped outside, and bright light streamed in through the windows. Her parents had been cut to death, while she'd watched helplessly, and then she'd been unable to save herself. These things didn't happen in leafy suburbs, to quiet dentists and their daughters. She tried to understand it all, but failed. Maybe it would come later. Nothing made any sense. Not anymore.


	5. Are you scared, Hermione?

People like it! Yay!

I never liked the 'I'm a misunderstood softy' Snape. Once a git, always a git.

It had been a long, difficult two weeks. It took three days for her to be able to walk on her own, aided by some restorative potions and Mrs Weasleys persistent help. Snape was like a ghost, only ever seen just leaving a room, or looking out through the leaded windows of the old gatehouse. She stayed for a week, unable to face Ron and Harry, or the crowd of Weasleys. Eventually Molly had insisted that she leave, and so had begun the last week before term. Visiting her grandparents, seeing her parents' ashes, and finally back to the house she had grown up in, no longer her home. The others must have scoured the place clean of the blood with magic, it looked pristine. It hadn't been until she'd seen the plates still on the drainer that the truth of it all finally hit her, and she had screamed for most of the day, and night. Everyone at the Burrow had kept their distance for the rest of the week. Hermione curled up in Percy's old room and refused to leave, even to eat.

Finally Molly had forced open the door, and sat there while Hermione ate. When she had finished, Molly put the plate to one side and took hold of Hermione's hand.

"There you go, dear. Now, I hate to make you do this, but school starts the day after tomorrow and there are some things we need to talk about. First, do you want to go back to Hogwarts _now? _Dumbledore has said that he'll give you as much time as you need before you go back. You're welcome to stay here all year if you want, or you can go to stay with your grandparents for a while. There's no real rush." She smiled, sympathetically.

Hermione frowned. She could stay with Nanna and Grandad Granger, but that might be putting them in danger. The same went for the Weasleys, and to be honest she was starting to feel a little uncomfortable staying in someone else's house for so long, crying all the time. But back to Hogwarts? Well, it felt like home there, and it was well protected from attack. It would be difficult with everyone pointing and whispering, but she couldn't hide forever. But then there was the whole thing with Professor Snape, and if Malfoy said one word wrong she was going to transfigure him into a rat and feed him to Crookshanks.

It took her a minute to decide. "I'll go back to school with the boys."

"Are you sure that you're up to it, dear? You don't have to if you don't want to."

She nodded. "I can't hide in here forever."

"You're very brave, Hermione. Now, you don't have to worry about your supplies and books for the new term, that's all been taken care of. There's even a new uniform and shoes. It's already been sent ahead. And Dumbledore's found your cat at last. Somehow he found his way to Professor Snape's house. Can you believe that!" She winced. "Which reminds me. Professor Snape has asked to see you this evening, to talk about what you need to say when you're back at school. I can put him off, if you'd like. You don't have to speak to him."

"No, that's alright. I need to talk to him at some point." Then. "Mrs Weasley, you didn't buy all my School things, did you?" She was horrified, the Weasleys were permanently short of funds, it must have cost them a fortune.

Molly hesitated. "No dear, we didn't. Professor Snape ordered everything as soon as you were speaking again. Trying to salve a guilty conscience, no doubt."

"It wasn't really his fault, Mrs Weasley."

She looked her in the eye. "Now Hermione, don't you ever defend him. And even more importantly, don't you ever trust him. Do you understand me, not ever." She looked as if she would like to say more, but she just glowered.

Okay. Hermione wasn't quite sure how to respond. "So, when will he get here?"

"In a few hours. Now, you think very carefully about anything he asks you do to, and if you're not sure, ask me or Albus for help. Don't let him bully you into anything, and mind you don't accept food or drink from him if you're alone."

Hermione was shocked.

"Well, he is a potions master. And he did.." Molly hesitated to say the word.

"Rape me? I know that. Mrs Weasley, has he even looked at me since? And he looks terrible. I think you might be being a bit hard on him. I've done lots of thinking about this, and I don't blame him. I blame Voldemort."

Molly winced at the name. "Well, yes.."

"Please Mrs Weasley, I'm not angry with him. I don't feel anything except a bit queasy at the thought of him, you know."

Molly pursed her lips. "Just remember, dear, be careful. He can be very persuasive." She sighed. "Well. Now, do you think you're up to coming downstairs? It's a lovely day outside."

Hermione nearly said no from force of habit, but then, she couldn't hide in here until she left. She smiled. "Maybe just for a bit."

Ron, Harry and Ginny were all delighted to see her, but tried not to smile or look too happy. It was all going very awkwardly, until both Ron and Harry put their arms round her simultaneously, when for a minute she looked like she might cry. Then she did cry, but only for a few minutes. Ginny jumped in to finish the group hug, and it was only a few minutes later that she stopped crying.

Professor Snape arrived after dinner. She was sitting next to the fire with her arms round Ginny, explaining roughly what had happened, minus the bit about Snape, when he stepped out of the fireplace, a huge bouquet in his arms.

Before anyone could comment, he thrust the flowers at Hermione. "They are from Snippy."

Hermione smiled. Snippy was even more caring than your average house elf, fussing over her the whole time she had been at Snape's house. Tied to the flowers was a piece of parchment, with a stick figure elf waving to her. Beautiful old roses in shades of pink, yellow and orange.

"Tell her I love them. Are they from the garden?"

He nodded.

Molly bustled over, glared at Snape, then took the roses. "I'll put them in some water. Children, Harry, why don't you go out in the garden for a bit," she suggested. Or rather, ordered.

The three looked at each other, then took the not so subtle hint and left Hermione and Snape alone by the fire. Mrs Weasley pottered around by the sink.

"You seem better." Snape finally said.

"So do you." And he did. He'd gained back a bit of weight, and trimmed his hair. Nearly the old Snape.

"Hmm." He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Well, there's no sense in wasting time. The Dark Lord accepts my story, and is happy for me to do as I wish." He smiled maliciously. "However, he isn't too pleased with Nott and Goyle. Listening to them both screaming under the cruciatus curse was most gratifying, He regards your 'damage' to be as a result of their incompetence. Apparently, they were told to abduct you as quietly as possible."

So, Nott and Goyle now rated higher than Voldemort on the Hermione Granger death list. In the past week she'd been occupying her mind with fanciful images of poisons and curses. Voldemort was Harry's problem, but those two, well...

"I thought that might interest you. But we do have more pressing matters, Miss Granger. We will need to agree on how to behave towards each other in public. For at least the first few months it won't be anything too complicated.Then I shall find excuses to put you into detention with me, alone. After this I shall begin showing some slight favouritism towards you in class. About this point it wouldn't hurt our little lie if you were to approach me to speak, in public, and be seen to smile when I talk to you. I believe that this should be sufficient to fool the Dark Lord's acned spies. It will also give me a reason to keep Malfoy from taunting you too much. If he's stupid enough to do it in front of me, he will deserve a detention. Do you have any ideas, or comments?"

My, he was asking for her opinion. "No, I mean, I wouldn't really know what to do, so it's probably best if you decide."

"Ahh, well. We will also be implying a physical relationship, so I may place a hand on your arm or back when we are in public. I shall do my best to avoid surprising you, the last thing we need is you screaming in the classroom. I draw the line at hand holding, though."

Hermione nodded. All of her previous experience with boys had been one goodbye kiss with Viktor Krum. She had no idea how to fake an illicit affair, with a teacher no less.

"I feel I must ask this, Miss Granger. In view of what happened, I would entirely understand if you have an aversion to me physically. Even under more normal circumstances women have fled screaming from me. I will understand if you find the physical contact... difficult."

"I think I will be alright, as long as you don't surprise me. I don't remember any of... you know. So it's not a big issue."

Snape's eyes gleamed. "I think we'd better make sure." He walked over to the sofa and sat next to her, carefully not touching any part of her. He regarded her thoughtfully, then held out a long-fingered hand.

Hermione took a deep breath, and touched his palm with her fingertips. No skin crawling, or rising panic. She gasped in surprise when he closed his hand gently round hers. There, all done. A bit weird, but she didn't feel the need to run off screaming.

"I thought you didn't do hand holding."

Snape looked at her for a second, then smiled dryly. "I won't be able to claim that distinction again, Miss Granger."

He released her hand and stood up again. "I believe that that is all, for now." He seemed uncomfortable. "I shall being seeing you at school, Miss Granger. And goodnight, Mrs Weasley."

Molly had edged her way closer to the fireplace, on the pretext of finding a place for the vase of flowers. She glared at Snape as he seized a handful of floo powder, and said loudly "Snape Gatehouse."

He vanished in a puff of smoke, ending his brief visit and leaving. Hermione was a bit surprised at his haste, but then got a good look at Mrs Weasleys face. She estimated that Snape had only been a few seconds away from a vase over the head. Molly looked about ready to explode.

"Did he upset you?" She demanded. Then she spotted that she was still wielding the vase like a medieval weapon of some kind, and put it down on a table.

"No, Mrs Weasley. I wasn't sure if being around him was going to make me nervous, so we did an experiment. I didn't feel anything, really. I think I'll be able to cope, back at school."

"If you're sure, dear." She sounded dubious.

Well, she wasn't exactly sure, but it was better than the alternatives, and probably safer.


	6. back to school

I can't believe how long it has been since I started this. Multiple sclerosis and a couple of howling kids make the years zip past.

The trip back to school had been awful. Everyone had whispered and stared, Malfoy had made some truly cruel comment, something like "why was everyone so bothered about two less muggles," Hermione had to physically restrain Ron and Harry. Never mind Malfoy, you'll pay for it later. Handy, having the most sadistic teacher at the school racked with guilt, and trying to be nice to you. Hermione was basically a sweet natured girl, but there were limits. A few days scrubbing the bedpans should teach the little ferret.

Apart from the staring, the first day went quietly enough. Except for seeing a thestral for the first time, nothing of note until she got up into the girls' rooms. She had gone to bed early, avoiding the well meaning but still curious Gryffindors in the common room. There next to her bed was her trunk. Mrs Weasley had assured her that absolutely everything she would need for the new term was in there. But Hermione being Hermione, she began to unpack everything and carry out an inventory.

Replacement wand. New shirts, jumper, nighties. Nothing out of the ordinary. Some very pretty shell pink underwear, that seemed to be real silk. Hermione paused for a moment, did Professor Snape pick these out himself? Some definitely upmarket cosmetics, hair potions, and a beautiful ebony hairbrush and comb. New shoes, with a slight heel, not like the flat she normally wore. Then school books, potion ingredients, everything on the school list, and a few thing that weren't. A tiny silver cauldron, a Hornbeams self-inking quill with a silver nib, and a copy of 'Esoteric Potions, their Uses and Misuses.' Also, a slender pink book of cosmetic spells. Then she noticed the piece of parchment attached to the inside of the trunk. It was Snape's handwriting.

"Miss Granger. Please read chapter eleven of 'Esoteric Potions' before your first detention, and bring the silver cauldron to said detention."

Hermione leafed through through the book. Fascinating. This was one if the few books with the full process for manufacturing Veritaserum, Lethe water, and a whole load of Ministry of Magic regulated potions. Chapter eleven, Wolfsbane potion. Ah, that explained the silver cauldron.

"Wow, Hermione, this is a really pretty nightie!"

She looked up. Lavender Brown had come into the room, and was holding the nightie against herself. Hermione had left the contents of her trunk all over their shared room, forgotten as soon as she had looked in the book. "Is it?"

She hadn't looked that closely. It was made of fine white lace, with a low neckline. It looked like something from a Hammer vampire film. Lavender was swishing it from side to side.

"It's lovely and silky." She dropped it on the bed, then picked up the pink book."Oooh, 'Witch' magazine's book of beauty!" Lavender started flipping through it. She pulled out her wand, and began to study the moving instructions, waving her wand in imitation. "Do you think this one would suit me?" She showed Hermione a page. A heavily made-up witch was cursing, no, curling, her hair with a spell.

"I like your hair the way it is." She said, diplomatically.

Lavender looked back at the picture, then sat down and started reading the book as avidly as Hermione had read the other. Hermione had never been good at girl talk, she couldn't figure out why other girls found shoes so fascinating. Now, magical theory, or new developments in the combination of muggle chemistry and alchemy... She didn't get on any better with most of the boys. Quidditch, quidditch, bloody quidditch. And lately, bra's.

"Would you like a sweet?" Lavender was holding out a Honeydukes bag.

Oh, Lavender was up here to be nice to her. Probably to see if she find could out anything, too. Well, she should get it over and done with. She took a sweet.

"It's alright, Lavender." The look on her face was one of concern, she was just being nice then. "You can ask me about it."

"I didn't want to pry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, I just wanted to get away from all the whispering. No one's been blunt enough to just come and and ask anything, yet." Maybe Lavender could help. "Could you field any questions for me? I don't feel like repeating this a hundred times."

She nodded.

"I don't remember anything, I mean, nothing at all. One moment I'm washing the plates, the next I'm wandering around in the middle of nowhere." She shrugged. "And that's it. Gone a month, and not a clue what happened." She had to stop, she was feeling tearful again. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think that not being able to remember might be a good thing." She whispered.

Lavender dropped the bag of sweets, and sat down next to her, putting an arm round her shoulders. It occurred then that her absence really had only two possible explanations, to those who didn't know. Either she had been involved in the murders, or that she had been a captive for a month, and had her memory wiped. The death eaters hadn't left Voldemorts mark over the house, so there was no way for anyone to know about that. And the way Lavender was behaving, she was going for the captive theory, which meant she probably thought...

What, that she'd been kept as entertainment? Well, she had been raped, and she only had Snapes version of events. For all she knew the whole lot of them had joined in. No, that couldn't have happened. Mrs Weasley had told her that he'd confessed under veritaserum, so he wasn't lying. Not for the first time she felt frustrated at not remembering, but she pushed it aside.

"Anything could have happened." She said, more to herself than anyone.

Lavender stayed up there for a while, doing the comforting bit pretty well, and then helping her to put away all the clothes and books. She finally went back down to the common room, to spread the story to all the avid listeners. It was alright, as long as they didn't all start asking her personally, Lavender was the next best thing to a public service announcement. Hermione finished the chapter on how to brew the Wolfsbane potion, then dressed for bed. She looked at the lace nightdress. Yes, just like the victim from a low budget vampire film.

She curled up under the covers, thinking about her mother. This time the tears didn't come, just a sense of confusion, like she was having one of those dreams where you think you are waking up, but you're really still asleep. In a way, that was what happened. She'd woken up to a nightmare. She hadn't told Mrs Weasley, but she'd been waking up in the night crying, not remembering the dreams. Perhaps it was because she didn't have the memories left to fill in the blanks. Where were they? Locked away somewhere in Snape's house? In Professor Dumbledore's office? Had they destroyed them? Maybe they were going to let her have them back a bit at a time, so that she didn't crack up again. Did she really want to see her mother being gutted?

Hermione slid into an uneasy sleep. This time she did dream. Someone was whispering something to her on the threshold of awareness, something important and terrifying. She struggled to hear it, to at least recognise the voice, but it shifted into distant weeping on a cold stone floor. Just pain and hard flesh, twisting in the dark. Then nothing


End file.
